


Pas de Deux

by FaiaHae



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Ballet Dancer Boyd Mosche, Ballet Dancer Ned Chicane, M/M, Meet-Cute, Ned Chicane Doing Crimes, community theater au, moshicane meet cute, ridiculously and cartoonishly self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 03:52:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17841935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaiaHae/pseuds/FaiaHae
Summary: You meet a lot of interesting people when you break into a community theater at three in the morning. Boyd picks a costume. Ned does a crime. Falling head over heels wasn't part of the plan.





	1. La Sylphide- Act 1

Boyd really wasn’t supposed to be here.

 

He held his breath as he eased open the theater door and ducked in, waiting for his eyes to adjust rather then turning on a light and risking anyone seeing him from the outside.

 

If they didn’t want him in here they shouldn’t have given him a key, he tried to hold onto that as he very quietly unlocked the door to the costume closet. Sure, it was 3 in the morning, and they probably weren’t thinking he’d be going backstage at three in the morning, but he got _antsy, dammit_ , and it was the night before the dress rehearsal and he just wanted to know what kind of ridiculous outfit they were going to put him in. He needed to be _emotionally prepared_ for it to be a kilt.

 

He eased the door closed behind him, going to the costume marked with his name, and sighed.

 

It was a kilt.

 

___

 

Boyd froze mid movement, hearing the door at the side of the stage click open.

 

There was a man at the side of the stage, in a white mask and a pair of wings. Boyd choked. After a full minute of staring at each other, the man cleared his throat.

 

“Hey I’m- Frank. I’m the stage manager here and you’re not supposed to be here.”

 

The corner of Boyd’s lip twitched, but he fought down the smile.

 

“Oh yeah? Well I’m- James. And I’m- I’m-.” he sighed, rubbing his forehead.

 

“Okay, i’m standing here in a kilt, and you’re wearing a big lacy mask and wings. Are we really going to stand here pretending to be authority figures until one of us breaks?”

 

The man in the mask grinned and shrugged.

 

“Fair enough. Well uh, you were clearly here first. So I’m willing to just-”

  
“Yeah. that might be for the best.”

 

The man nodded, and then they both froze as they saw red and blue lights outside.

  
“Shit.” Boyd hissed.

  
The other man winced.

“Probably shouldn’t have banked on their being no security system.”

 

“You _broke in?_ ”

 

“Uh, yeah? Didn’t you?”  


“No you _git_ I have a k- Nevermind. It doesn’t matter. We need to hide.”

 

The other man was already moving, dashing across the stage and grabbing Boyd by the hand and pulling him along behind him. Boyd didn’t have any chance to question him, sprinting to keep up (for someone so much shorter than him, this man was surprisingly fast) they sprinted as quietly as they could (which was impressively quietly, shit, Boyd was wearing his pointe shoes but what the fuck-)

 

“In here.”  


They turned a sharp corner into what looked like a workshop and the man tugged him even further into a closet filled with fabrics and closed the door behind them. They sat in the dark for what felt like hours, and Boyd vaguely realized that he was still not only holding the stranger’s hand but probably crushing the life out of it, but he wasn’t inclined to let go. If he broke the man’s fingers it’d be penance for breaking into the theater at three in the morning (Boyd was not willing to admit that he’d also broken into the theater at three in the morning.)

 

After what felt like ages, Boyd heard him whisper-

 

“I hope you didn’t drive here.”

 

Boyd snorted.  
  
“I hope _you_ didn’t drive here.”

 

The man laughed a bit, quieting down as the building settled (or maybe it was footsteps? Shit, was that footsteps?)

 

They finally decided that it was safe when Boyd pulled his phone free and discerned that it’d been three hours, but they climbed out the window and down the fire escape anyway- after boyd had made sure the costumes were back where they were supposed to be, because honestly, he liked dancing here and he didn’t want to be kicked out.

 

The man had, in fact, driven to the theater- though his car was parked in an adjacent lot.

  
“Do you want a ride home?”

 

Boyd squinted at him, trying to get a read. With the mask off, he was handsome enough- a well trimmed mustache and beard covering a mouth that looked like it smiled often; eyes that shone warm in the streetlights. Boyd thought he might get stuck if he looked in those eyes too long.

 

“No, I really ought to be going.” He hesitated, about to walk away. “Um, my name’s Boyd. Boyd Mosche. What’s yours?”

 

The man grinned.

  
“James Ruben.”

 

Boyd rolled his eyes, recognizing the protagonist whose costume he’d just been wearing.

 

“No it’s not.”

 

The man wiggled his fingers.

  
“I’m the spirit whose come to steal your heart away.”

 

“Knock it off.”

 

There was that smile again, easy as anything.

 

“Goodnight, Boyd.”

 

Boyd turned on his heel, waving over his shoulder, and left it at that.

 


	2. La Sylphide - Act 2

“So.” Boyd said, conversationally, holding still to let Aubrey brush makeup over his face.

 

“Do you think you could come out from hiding all creepy in the corner, Ned?”

 

Aubrey squeaked as Ned stepped out of the shadows of the corner of the room, clutching her chest dramatically.   
  
“Jesus Christ how did you get there.” 

 

Ned wiggled his fingers.

 

“Magic Sylph powers.”

 

“He hid in the costume rack as they wheeled it in so he could make a more dramatic entrance.”

Ned sighed dramatically.

 

“Why must you ruin things for me.”

 

“Ah yes, speaking of that- Aubrey, do you think you could give us a minute- thank you-” He waited till the door clicked shut behind her before he glowered at Ned.

 

“You really couldn’t have warned me last night that they were reworking the show?”

 

Ned shrugged, grinning. He knew Aubrey was listening at the door.

 

“I wasn’t really supposed to know either.”   
  


“Well you certainly weren’t supposed to be here at three in the fuckin’ morning,  _ Ned Chicane. _ ”

 

Ned laughed, and he caught the smile at the corner of Boyd’s lips before he could push it down again, and he felt pretty damn good about that. 

 

“So you really were the spirit come to steal my heart away, huh?” Boyd mused, and Ned couldn’t help the warmth in his cheeks, but he tried to cover it up with an easy grin.

 

“Well in the original version of the story, it’s a fisherman’s wife that gets stolen away by a goblin. So they were going to combine the two, but someone managed to convince them that using a horrible goblin to steal away a woman’s husband wasn’t the message they wanted to send to the LGBT community.”

 

Boyd raised an eyebrow.

 

“I’ve only got two questions about that.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“One.” Boyd raised a finger, and Ned grinned at him. 

 

“What happened to my previous costar?”

 

“Dani’s on a save-the-amazon wilderness retreat. Aubrey misses her very much.”

 

“Hm. that’s gonna make three questions, then. But. Two! Who, exactly, convinced them that the goblin bit was a bad idea?”

 

Ned grinned. He could see from the twinkle in Boyd’s eye that he had some suspicions.

  
“Hate to disappoint, but actually, not me. Duck.”

 

“Duck?”

 

“You don’t know your director’s name?”

 

“Actually, that brings me to question number three.”

 

Boyd stopped looking at him in the mirror, spinning the chair and lounging on it like a throne. He pointed at Ned.

  
“Who the fuck are you?”

 

Ned winked.

 

“I already told you. The spirit come to steal your heart away.” 

 

Boyd rolled his eyes.

 

“Okay, sure, you got the role of the sylph come to steal my heart away, but how do you know absolutely everybody?”

 

Ned chuckled, going over to the makeup counter to take the seat next to Boyd.

 

“We go way back, as it happens. I could tell you the story...”

 

“Over dinner? You’re on. Now go let Aubrey back in, she’s probably straining her ear against that door.”   
  


Ned gave an overdramatic bow.

 

“It’s a date.”


End file.
